


It's Okay

by bandersnatchbandwidth



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gender Issues, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, questioning gender, teen and up for language only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 05:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandersnatchbandwidth/pseuds/bandersnatchbandwidth
Summary: John works through a crisis.





	It's Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Trans headcanons give me life, so now it's time for some ~*~lowkey projection~*~

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering  turntechGodhead [TG]

EB: hey dave.  


EB: dave.  


EB: daaaaaaaave!  


EB: don’t make me break out the last name i swear to god dude.  


EB: …  


EB: …  


EB: alright you have forced my hand.  


TG: yo chill out man no need to break out the last name shits sacred you know  


EB: bullshit, there are at least like, eight people who exclusively call you strider.  


TG: yeah so at some point in the future when we have some kind of gross sappy heart to heart well use each others first names in a sign of how far weve come not just as people but as friends

TG: as comrades  


TG: dare i say  


TG: as gamers  


EB: ok, i’m ignoring that.  


EB: can we talk?  


TG: yeah ok, whats up? you usually indulge my long and incredibly cool tangents  


EB: …  


TG: are you ok?  


EB: …probably, yeah.  


TG: im in the library rn you want me to come back to the room?  


EB: no, i’d rather talk over text if you’re good with that.  


TG: aight cool, i feel  


TG: what do you wanna talk about?  


EB: ok, so, you’re trans.   


TG: woah for real? holy shit dude i had no idea  


EB: no dumbass listen for a second.  


EB: you’re trans. how did you know?  


TG: oh. huh  


EB: oh what? you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, i just.  


EB: i don’t know. sorry.  


TG: no no dude youre totally fine dont sweat it  


TG: i was just a lil caught off guard no worries  


TG: ok so  


TG: im not one of those “oh ive always known” trans folks  


TG: i actually didnt realize that i didnt have to live my life as a girl until middle school when i met a trans dude and was like holy shit thats an option?? i dont have to just cope with my gender and feel like im always touching old wet food that got left in the sink too long because no one could be bothered to just do the fucking dishes and now theres fucking mildew and shit all over the place, bugs crawling around, all in all a really gross place to live which sucks because thats where you live and you have no say in it in the beginning  


TG: uh  


TG: anyway  


TG: meeting that guy when i was younger led to me looking into trans stuff online and finding communities of people with non-cis identities talking about their experiences and i started seeing all these similarities between me and them  


TG: like did you know feeling gross and upset when people refer to you as your assigned gender isnt a thing cis people do? who knew  


TG: trans people knew because historically weve been like, way fucking smarter than cis people  


TG: so yeah. i didnt know right off the bat as a kid but i figured it out  


EB: …  


TG: …?  


EB: right.  


EB: so, um.  


EB: do you think it’s possible to figure out things like that at our age?  


TG: yeah of course bro, aint no age limit on self discovery  


TG: were barely 21, statistically we dont know shit  


EB: ha ha, yeah. right.  


EB: it’s not bad, is it? to do that?  


EB: to take so long??  


TG: definitely not  


EB: …yeah, ok.  


TG: so im pretty sure i know what youre trying to ask about about  


TG: or tell me  


TG: is it cool with you if i just ask?  


EB: i guess so. yeah.  


EB: i am worried though.  


EB: i feel like i should already have had all of this figured out already  


EB: i don’t know.  


TG: alright im coming back to the room  


EB: no you really do not have to do that!  


TG: nope too late im already omw  


TG: got my skates on and everything  


TG: man these light up wheels are so fucking cool  


EB: dave if you crash and die because you are texting and skating on a god damn snow day again i will come to your funeral only to say i told you so.  


TG: yeah yeah i love you too see you in a few  


EB: …ok.  


turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering  ectoBiologist [EB]

John drummed his fingers on his legs as he stared at his phone. He didn’t know why he thought he could get by talking about this over text only. Or why he even wanted to talk about it in the first place. He was probably wrong or confused, anyway. Wasting Dave’s time. Finals were in two weeks, he should be studying and letting Dave study, not distracting the both of them. He shifted in bed, tucking his feet more firmly under him and wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Classes were cancelled, but Dave always liked hanging out in the library more than in their room, so the room was all John’s today. All his to wallow in confusion and… whatever these feelings were. The lights were dim, as they had been all day, and he was suddenly nervous to see his best friend. It was ridiculous to be nervous about, he told himself halfheartedly. If anyone would be understanding it would be Dave.

A few minutes passed and the anxiety only built. Finally, after an excruciating four minutes, Dave knocked a shave and a haircut on the door, unlocked it, and let himself in. As he closed the door, John realized what a sorry sight he must be – alone in a dark room, sitting in the corner on his bed, a full comforter wrapped around him.

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hey,” Dave echoed, gently tossing his backpack on his desk and dropping his skates to the ground. The wheels flashed brightly with the impact and John snorted.

“One day those are going to get you killed, they are like perfect little signs advertising you as a good mugging target.”

Dave pressed a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Are you saying my incredibly cool and tough rainbow light-up roller skates are in fact not incredibly cool and tough?”

“Yes.” Some of the nervousness seeped away as they talked.

“Be still my fucking heart, Egbert, do you _want_ me to get mugged?” He asked, eyebrows as high as could be, eyes wide.

John laughed slightly before cutting himself off. “If it gets you to stop pretending that your little baby skates for toddlers are cool, then maybe.” 

Dave gasped and gestured to his skates. “Just because I can wear cool kid shoes and you can’t doesn’t give you the right to be a bitch about it, dude.”

“Roller skates aren’t shoes!”

“What is a shoe if not anything you can put your foot in?” He made a face. “Wait that sounds super fucking gross, I take it back.”

John laughed, for real that time. 

Dave plopped himself onto his own bed, looking at John. And with that, all the nerves that had begun receding came stampeding back. He pulled the blanket up more, looking more like a giant quilted dumpling than a person.

“I said I wanted to ask you straight up, is that okay?” Dave asked, gathering his own blanket around him. Their RA preferred cold temperatures, much to the chagrin of the deeply Texan Dave (and the entertainment of John).

John nodded.

“Okay I’m gonna need you to give me a solid yes, no, or maybe as an answer, capiche?”

“Capoche,” John confirmed from his blanket shelter. He felt his hands shake and curled them in the blanket.

Dave nodded. Then: “Are you trans?”

Hearing those words sent a wave of emotions over John. Emotions he had been feeling for a while now but was unsure how to address, feelings that scared him. There were too many thoughts for him to sort out at once and he just looked dumbly over at Dave, his eyebrows and mouth twisting into a confused expression. _Yes_, a gentle voice whispered in the back of his head.

“Yes, no, or maybe, broski.” Dave’s voice was soft, and it hurt. John didn’t know why it hurt, just that it did. Maybe it was evidence that Dave actually cared for him.

He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, so he cleared his throat to try again, not looking at Dave. “… Maybe.” 

Anxiety crackled through his veins and he clenched his hands and looked away. “I don’t know. I can’t tell! How am I supposed to know if I am or not?” His voice pitched up in frustration and he buried his face in the blanket. He groaned.

Dave was quiet for a beat, maybe working out what words to use. “Okay,” he began after a bit, “as your resident trans friend who won’t use this opportunity to psychoanalyze you like _somebody_would, maybe I can help.” John let out a quiet, breathy laugh at the mention of Rose. He thought about talking to her, but he definitely didn’t need a shrink. Yet.

“Let me ask a few more questions, okay? Yes, no, or maybe for your answer still.”

“… Yeah. Okay,” John said, picking his head up to look over at Dave again. He swallowed hard. Time to face the music, he supposed.

“When I call you ‘dude’, ‘bro’, or ‘man’, does it make you uncomfortable?”

John scanned his memories, trying to pick out specific feelings. “Kinda?” He finally answered. “Yes, I guess. I know you use those in the same way for everyone though, but yeah, sometimes I get this, like, sinking feeling when you use them for me.”

Dave nodded again. “Noted. Does being called ‘son’ or ‘boyfriend’ feel bad?”

John thought of himself like that and the sinking feeling immediately arrived in the pit of his stomach. “Yes,” he answered. “For sure.”

“Okay, gotcha.” Dave smiled slightly and John wondered what he was thinking. Was this fun for him like it was for Rose? “Oh, side question I guess, do you know what dysphoria is?”

Ah, he was worried about that question. “Yeah,” he responded slowly, looking away once more, “but I don't think I feel it.”

“Oh,” Dave said. John’s heart skipped a beat and dropped, unable to decipher what that “oh” meant. Was John faking? Did Dave just realize that? What if he was wrong this whole time and it was all pointless?

“I see you freaking out over there,” Dave said with a small sigh. He stood up and crossed the room, sitting next to John – or rather, the pile of blankets that John was hiding under. “You’re okay, okay? Just keep talking with me.”

The blanket pile nodded. “’Kay.”

“So you don’t feel a lot of discomfort with the body you’ve got,” Dave asked into the air.

John frowned and curled into himself even more. “… Not really…” He mumbled into the blankets. “Sometimes I do, but I can usually ignore it.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Like, sometimes it feels awful to have this body but usually it’s fine.” He clenched his fists, his nails pressing into his palms. It’s fine. “It doesn’t make sense; I know I don’t look like a girl or anything but people calling me a guy makes me mad. Like they should know, when _I_ don’t even know.”

Dave hummed quietly, probably doubting the validity of John’s identity crisis. John sniffled and leaned against him, emotions bubbling thickly in his chest.

“So that’s making you doubt if you’re actually a girl or not, huh.”

“… Yeah.”

“But it makes you feel bad when people refer to you as a dude?”

John made a face out into the room as he thought about it. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

“That’s a kind of dysphoria, actually,” Dave said, angling himself so he could wrap an arm around John. “It’s called social dysphoria, and it _really_ kicked my ass when I was younger.”

John’s frown returned in contemplation. “So I'm not just a weird guy?”

A beat of silence. Then, gentle and pointed: “_Are_ you a guy?”

John pulled the blankets all the way over his head and groaned. He mumbled an answer into the comforter and felt Dave give him a weak bap on the head.

“I can’t hear you when you’re just a voice from the depths of the Egbert Crisis Fortress and you know it.”

John smiled slightly, memories surfacing from the past times he had holed himself up like this. Dave was one of the few people capable of pulling him out of funks like this, and for that he was grateful. 

“The voice from the depths of the Egbert Crisis Fortress requests that you shut the fuck up for once and let her think.”

John froze. 

He felt Dave shift so he could look at him, assuming the walls of the Crisis Fortress ever fell. John’s face was still hidden, but his eyes went wide in the darkness and his breathing and heart quickened. He used “her” for himself. Without even thinking about it, without doing it on purpose. And it wasn’t bad. It didn’t kill him on the spot, so hey, maybe this was okay. Maybe he wasn’t just broken and confused about something not worth his time.

“Alright, hang on,” Dave said. “So imagine I said something like, ‘she’s my best friend in the world, literally the coolest girl ever to exist – even if she’s a little fucker sometimes – and everything she does, except for insulting my very good fashion choices, is rad.’ That would be good?”

John’s heart leapt into his throat and he could practically _hear_ the smile in Dave’s voice. “… Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Try narrating yourself like that. It’s part of the way I got used to using new pronouns for myself,” Dave said, moving the comforter slightly away from John’s face. John let him – _She_ let him. She tried very hard to use the new pronoun, definitely constructing some awkward sentences. She thought about the word “girl” in referral to herself. She thought about other people calling her that. She thought about herself in this way that she had been avoiding since she realized it might be true. And it felt good. Proper. Her heart still beat hard – anxiety isn’t cured with a word, unfortunately. But it beat with excitement as well. With joy. She moved her blanket so she could look at Dave, and as soon as their eyes met, he smiled.

“Feels good, don’t it?” He said. 

She swatted a hand at him, trying valiantly to fight a smile. “You fucker, why couldn’t you have told me to do that earlier?”

He laughs, dodging easily. “It’s not a fuckin’ panacea for figuring out if you’re trans or not, and I had to figure out where you were in your gender crisis in order to do anything! I can’t just skate in here and say ‘hey darlin’ you’re a girl and you need to stop freaking out about it’.”

“You know very well that you could have done that,” John said, narrowing her eyes.

“Okay, yeah, I could have, but tell me that wouldn’t’ve immediately freaked you out like a kitten in a bathtub.”

John’s face screwed up into an expression that was half confusion and half entertained. “Dude, did you… Did you just call me a kitten?”

“No, I said you would have been _like_ a kitten if I had come in here yelling at you about your identity!” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “God damn, pay attention, girl.”

She smiled. “Got it. If I am a cat, what does that make you?”

“Oh a dog, clearly.” Dave leaned back against the wall. “You know the old dumb saying that’s like, ‘women are cats and men are dogs’, or whatever? We’re that. You’re a small, frightened kitten, and I am your large, cool, and intimidating dog friend. Like a rottweiler or something.” He gestured to the two of them as he spoke, blatantly disregarding the fact that John was almost eight inches taller. “No wait – a german shepherd/great dane mix. Would that even work? How the fuck does dog breeding work? … I don’t want to know, actually, I take that back.”

John hummed in agreement as he kept talking, only partially listening. She mused over her new pronouns. It felt strange to use, to switch something like that after two decades of use, but it was a good strange feeling. One she could definitely get used to. She smiled slightly. Sure, all the fears were still there – what if she was wrong after all? What if everyone reacted poorly? What if it was a phase? What if she made a terrible mistake? – but for the moment, she was alright. 

Then something dawned on her and she whipped around to look at Dave.

“Does this mean I’m a lesbian?”


End file.
